"Explain to me again why we're clearing out your attic," Ron said, watching Harry climb back up into the loft and wondering how much junk you could actually fit in that room.

"I told you already, spring cleaning, Ronald," Hermione quipped. Her curly hair was tied back with a pink ribbon and she was dressed for cleaning, but both boys had noticed that she hadn't done much work at all, apart from 'supervising' them.

"And I told you, Hermione, January the fifteenth," the redhead said irritably, and she mirrored his frown before Harry shouted something from up in the attic. "What is it, Harry?"

"I need a hand with something," the third member of their cleaning crew shouted. "Both of you come up." The two shot each other quizzical glances, but complied by climbing up the ladder into the attic. Harry was nowhere to be seen.

"Harry?" Hermione said nervously, stepping into the room. A movement caught her eye, and she spun round, drawing her wand. She realised she was pointing it at a small branch of shrubbery, rather than a person. She also realised, after her mind registered exactly which kind of shrubbery this was, that Ron was standing right beside her and the tiny sprig had been maneuvered to hover above their heads, just out of reach.

"You know the rule," someone said, and both knew it was Harry. Ron's ears started going red, while Hermione's entire face flushed pink. "You're under mistletoe!"

"It's January," Ron protested, glaring around the room, and Harry just laughed.

"Doesn't matter," he replied from somewhere in the shadows. "You've got to kiss."

"Harry, I'm going to murder you, mate," Ron said, before leaning down and placing a kiss on Hermione's cheek. The mistletoe dropped to the ground and Harry ran out from behind a pile of boxes and jumped down out of the loft. "Get back here," Ron shouted, racing after him.

Hermione just stood, one thumb lightly brushing her cheek, a soft smile on her lips. She would have to thank Harry later.